chronicles of idiosyncrasy

Note to world #207

She was most decidedly not feeling christmas-y spirited. Presents looked like recycling waiting to happen and every hour brought a new request from her children for food, relief from modern existential boredom or some other physical or emotional nourishment. She felt hungover with fatigue, if such a thing were possible, and really wanted someone else to be mommy for the day so she could sit idly on the couch, sip hot tea and empty her mind of all its jumbled thoughts and crumply half ideas.